Red Riding
by xprimrose
Summary: Bigby is confronted by the past he's been hiding from when Red Riding Hood comes looking for a place to stay. Things are going haywire in Fabletown when fables start disappearing without a trace, and when Red Riding gets involved with a girl at the Puddin' n Pie and disappears as well, Bigby has no choice but to find out what's really going on. A little fluffy bigbyXred
1. Red Riding

"Snow…Snow I been meaning to ask…busy this…Saturday…" Bigby muttered in his sleep, his shaggy head swaying side to side on his sad excuse of a "sleeping chair".

"What? Aw Bigby you're talkin' in your sleep again! Hey! Wake up y'animal." Colin snorted and rested his head back onto his stubby, grubby feet. His eyes slowly drooped shut, yearning for a little more sleep. Bigby had been muttering nothing but nonsense about Snow these days. What Colin didn't understand was why he didn't just approach the broad and tell her himself. Despite already being blatantly obvious about his feelings, sometimes women still just liked to hear these things directly.

 _Knock knock knock_. "Bigby someone's at the door." Colin yelled, not bothering to open his eyes. "Bigby! Jesus." He reluctantly pushed himself onto all fours and yawned. His dirty feet clopped on the wooden floor as he waddled over to Bigby and prodded him with his scrunched nose. He lowered his voice in case it was Snow or someone else who'd threaten to take him away. "Bigby! Someone's at your fuckin' door! Wake up man, c'mon."

"Huh—" Bigby thrashed up in his chair, eyes wide open.

"I said, someone's knockin'." Colin flicked his head towards in the direction of the door in case Bigby's motor skills weren't quite working.

"What time is it?" he asked.

 _Knock knock knock._

"Ten p.m." Colin answered. "Approximately."

"Who'd be asking for me at this hour?" He wondered. Maybe it was Snow? Something might've come up at the office or—maybe an emergency. He got up from his chair, rubbing his tired eyes. The doorknob was cold. "Hey Snow, what's up—" He stopped himself mid-sentence, realizing he was a little overzealous in his assumptions. This person was, in fact, not Snow at all. The person standing before him was a little younger, shorter, and a little more—the complete opposite of the elegant, fair-skinned woman he was expecting.

"Hey Wolf." She clicked her tongue.

"Uh, hi." Something about her face seemed so familiar, but he was almost positive he didn't know any Fables with eyebrow piercings. Most of the female Fables had adapted a style that rung pretty close to what their traditional clothes looked like. Was she a Mundy?

"What, you don't remember me?" She crossed her arms and lowered her chin to give him a better look.

"Do I know you from somewhere…?" He racked his brain for a memory that could match her face, but nothing. He recognized her features, but couldn't remember from exactly where.

"Come on, Wolf, try a little harder. Does the red hood do anything for you?"

"…Little Red Riding? Is that you?" He raised an eyebrow. She had certainly changed over the years. Of course, it _had_ been a few hundred; he didn't know what he was expecting after such a long period of separation.

"I just go by Red these days. Red Riding." She replied. Her tone was neither cold nor ginger. Just merely lukewarm, and he wasn't sure what to say to her next. It had to have been centuries since he last saw her. From what he collected, she hadn't moved with the rest of the Fables. The cottage she lived in with her grandmother somehow eluded the eye of The Adversary and she stayed behind. She must've been there the entire time, unless, of course, she had found a new place to live between then and the present. It was easy for her to blend in, as she didn't require a glamour to look human.

"I… uh, come in." He stepped aside for her to enter his sad excuse of an apartment. "It's not much I… Sorry for the mess." He muttered, shutting the door after her. Her battered cape slid across his hand as she strode through the doorway. He could distinguish that bloody shade of red anywhere; it had haunted him for years, along with Colins two other brothers and the plaid on the boy who cried 'wolf'.

"Nice place. A little small but—oh you have a guest?" She startled, pointing at the lump of fur lying in front of the television set.

"Aw, don't tell me you don't remember. It's me, Colin! We used to run away scared shitless by this asshole! And look at us both now, sittin' in his apartment as if we're all buddy-pals now."

"Things've definitely changed." Red murmured. "And I wouldn't say the latter is true." She raised an eyebrow at Bigby.

"Uh, sit, sit." He signaled towards the only chair in the entire apartment.

"What, and you're just gonna stand?" She waved her hand for him to sit instead. He seemed reluctant but it was clear _she_ wasn't going to take the spot, so he sat down. Staring up at her from his chair, he suddenly felt vulnerable; which wasn't a common feeling for the Big Bad Wolf.

"What the hell you doin' here, Red?" Colin asked.

"When did you get into town?" Bigby chimed in. He was curious too.

"About an hour ago. I was expecting there to be big, shitty pearly gates that separated the Fables from the Mundies but I guess you guys are pretty good at disguising yourself, huh?"

"Glamour," Bigby muttered, side-eyeing Colin. "It's something _most_ of us use to look human." Colin only scoffed.

"I don't know, I was actually expecting to see more like him, to be honest. Nothin' really popped out at me and said, 'Welcome home, Red!' Did catch a dirty glance from Bluebeard on the way up here though, so that's somethin' a little familiar."

"Yeah, well, we can't really be wandering around New York City the way we are. This is as homey as it gets." Bigby sighed. "And with Bluebeard's money funding the place, there isn't much we can do about him—unfortunately." He decided to stand up; the height difference was beginning to make him uncomfortable.

"Not like I'd really call it home anyway." She looked down, slipping a piece of hair behind her ear.

"I…hope you don't mind me asking but…" Colin gave Bigby a questioning glance and he was hesitant to continue. "—What exactly did happen back home? Surely _something_ must've brought you here." He scratched the back of his neck anxiously. Though, her face was so much less intimidating when she moved her hair out of the way.

"The cottage was burnt down."

"My god—"

"Holy shit." Colin murmured. "All of it? Burnt down? Jesus." Red only shook her head and shifted her legs uncomfortably. "I'm sorry kiddo."

"That's… rough." Bigby added sorrowfully.

"Right, because you've always cared so much about my well-being, Wolf." Red snarled coldly. Her first sign of genuine, fuming emotion left tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. Her abyss-like brown eyes shrunk him slowly into his seat defeatedly. He knew _this_ storm was coming the moment he recognized her hood; the storm he'd been running away from for the past four centuries, the evils he'd done were coming back to haunt him. A churning sickness grew in the pit of his stomach and suddenly his head felt as if it were being squeezed between two cement walls.

"Things are different now, Red." He tried to sputter apologetically, though it had come out more harsh than he intended.

"Yeah, Bigby's a changed man! Don't know if you've heard, but he's the sheriff around these parts now." Colin piped in. Red crossed her arms. "And look, he's even housing a delinquent like me. Come on, he ain't as bad as he used to be. Still a jerk sometimes but, definitely not as bad." Bigby let out an uncomfortable sigh. Colin was never too good at compliments, but he appreciated the effort. The hostility was definitely there in Red's tone; enough so that even someone as unmindful as Colin could sense it.

"Bigby? Is that what they call you these days?" Red scoffed in disbelief. "Bigby? As in Big bad Wolf? Ha! That's good Wolf, that's pretty good. You're really starting a new life here, aren't you? You think everyone's gonna forget all the harm you caused back in the day just because you change your name?"

"I just thought it'd be easier to put on my records. A real name, not some villain title you all gave to me." His tone remained monotonous. He knew he had no right to stand up for himself, but at the same time he hated being talked down to. Red kneeled to the floor and put her face in her palms. She was silent for a moment.

"It's… not easy, Wolf. I don't blame you for it, the cottage I mean. I just… I got nothin' anymore…" She ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "I guess no one really does, when they come to this shit hole."

"Why are you here then, Red?" Bigby asked, slowly finding his voice again. "Why come to my place? The one person you—everyone despises the most?"

"Ah, retribution? Um— y'know maybe something to say 'hey I'm sorry about eating your grandma, Red. I should give you some cookies to make up for it!'." Bigby lowered his eyes and she sighed. "I… Need a place to stay, Wolf—"

"Bigby."

"—Bigby. I was hoping you could help me get back on my feet. I don't need money—just a cheap place to stay for a few days until I can figure things out." She placed her hands in her lap and looked up at him.

"Well there ain't any space here, sweet cheeks. Sorry, this livin' area is only made for one man. And a pig." Colin chuckled to himself. Bigby shot him another dirty look.

"Is there someplace cheap? Real cheap? Maybe a motel or—even a closet someplace here would be fine too—"

"You're welcome to stay here, Red. There isn't…much to it but it's home, and it's free." Red waved her hands in front of her as if he had just admitted killing his own mother.

"What? No, Wolf, I can't do that. Even I can see there isn't even enough room for all of us to sit in here. You need your space, you're a big guy. And I get the whole personal space thing. Despite hating your guts, I can still respect that. I hate livin' with people."

"Wish this one felt the same way." Bigby glanced at Colin, who replied with a piggy smile. "No, really, at least for one day, till you can find someplace else. It's…the least I could do for you at this point." He scratched the back of his neck.

"No, no way, Wolf I can't do that—"

"Red. Please. It's more for me than for you." He stood up and turned to face her.

"I—well, alright. Only for one day. Only one day." She poked his chest with a raised finger. "One."

"I get it. Just one. And—stop callin' me Wolf."


	2. Cigarettes

The next morning, Red found herself alone in the small barren apartment. She slid off her hood; her hair floating from the static of the cloak, and cracked her neck several times. It was immensely sore from having dangled off the arm of Bigby's beat up old chair all night. He'd offered it to her as she got ready to sleep, apologizing for the lack of a bed. She argued for the floor instead but he insisted he wasn't going to sleep anyway. So she made do and slept on it horizontally—which proved, the morning after, to be an unwise decision. She got up from the chair and wandered into the kitchen in search of a cure for the thirst she had acquired overnight. She first looked in the top cupboards, then the bottom ones, but a glass was nowhere to be seen. They were all empty. The contents of his kitchen—or rather lack of—made it look as if the apartment had just been moved into; though the worn furniture and dirty countertops said otherwise. She opened the fridge hoping that for some reason he might have kept his one cup in there. Alas there was only a sad bottle of ketchup with no food to dress. She closed the door and made her way to the sink, deciding her hands would have to do. As she slurped the tap water from her cupped hands, she wondered to herself just what sort of life Bigby lead to own an apartment with an empty kitchen. The door kicked open as soon as she shut off the faucet and she stood frozen for a moment in anticipation.

"God damn door." To her relief it was only Bigby, bursting through his own door carrying a single grocery bag. "Always gets stuck."

"Hey. Why the hell don't you have anything in your fridge? Or your kitchen at all for that matter?" She asked, leaning against the counter.

"Oh, you're up." He sounded slightly disappointed.

"And lacking a breakfast. How do you live like this?" She pointed at the brown paper bag he was carrying, "What's in there?"

"What you're looking for, I guess." He answered. "I was gonna make pancakes."

"Pancakes?" Red crossed her arms. "You don't come off as the type of guy who likes to eat pancakes very often." She grabbed the bag and began emptying its contents onto the counter.

"Uh, no, I'm not. I don't really…eat much."

"I can tell." She replied sarcastically, pulling out the last of the ingredients. She shook the bag but nothing else fell out.

"What's the matter?" Bigby asked

"Pancakes with no baking powder?" She shot him a dubious look. "Have you ever made pancakes in your life, Bigby?"

"What the hell is baking powder? Ah, damn it…" He muttered ashamedly to himself.

She scoffed. "I can still make us some crepes with what you've got here."

"Shit, I'm sorry." He muttered, sitting himself down at the dining table and shaking his head. The familiar sound of clip-clopping feet came strolling down the hallway and into the apartment's open door.

"Is that food? Holy shit Bigby, one night with a chick and you're a changed man. What's cookin' good lookin'?"

"Where have you been?" Bigby asked him, changing the subject.

"Oh a buddy o' mine offered to keep me for a few days. He ain't threatening to kick me out if I don't get glamoured like a certain somebody I know. So I'm considering moving there for good."

"And who would want to house you?" Bigby raised an eyebrow.

"I ain't sayin' any names. Don't wanna get nobody in trouble for housing a Farm-runaway-fugitive." Colin turned to Red. "What'd you do to the man? He don't even cook breakfast for me."

I'm cooking today. Bigby'll take care of breakfast tomorrow. I'm thinkin' sausage and bacon?"

"You disgusting humans." Colin snorted. "I already regret comin' back."

"No one's stopping you from leaving." Bigby shrugged.

"Alright, alright. I see how it is. You two lovebirds want your alone time." Bigby glared at him with enough anger to scorch a hole through his pig head. Red didn't bother to turn around. "Gotcha, boss. I'll leave now. Just wanted to see if you'd eaten her yet, but I see now that she's found a way to prevent that from happening. See ya around Red." And with that he left as abruptly as he entered. Bigby cleared his throat uncomfortably as he closed the door.

"So, erm, did you get a chance to look at any apartment ads yet?" He asked, grabbing the newspaper from the corner of the table.

"Not yet. I just got up actually. I usually sleep in pretty late." She sat down across from him and crossed her legs, leaning forward on her hands. "Let me see." He took a moment and folded the papers to give to her. She flipped through a few pages before tapping her finger on the right section. "Wow there's plenty of places to live around here."

"It is New York." Bigby answered, leaning back in the wooden chair. "Not a lot of _cheap_ places, though."

"Shit, yeah, I can see that. What's the cheapest place in the Woodlands I could—"

"You're lookin at it." Bigby held up his arms as if to showcase his magnificently shabby apartment. She raised an eyebrow.

"I'm thinkin' maybe this one bedroom studio with a kitchenette." She held the newspaper across the table and pointed at the ad to show him.

"Can you afford that?" He asked.

"For a month, maybe. If I don't eat and I build a mattress with my clothes to sleep on." She put the newspaper down and he looked up at her with slight concern. She looked away and walked back into the kitchen. "Alright let's get started on these crepes. Do you think Colin's comin' back for some?" She didn't look at him to avoid his sympathetic glance.

"Probably not." He replied, picking up the newspaper again. She whipped up the crepes within minutes, and carried them out on paper towels.

"Since you're a caveman who doesn't own any plates, this is the best I can do." She slid the crepe across to him and sat down. It was decorated with a dollop of whip crème and two strawberries, which made the plate way much fancier than anything he'd ever eaten in his life.

"I do have forks." He got up and grabbed one for each of them.

"You have forks but no plates?" What the hell, she thought. "Eat up." He nodded and stared cautiously at the food before him. He couldn't even recall the last time he had a real meal, let alone one so decadent. He ripped the crepe in half and stabbed it with his fork, shoving it into his mouth.

"How is it?" She asked, stabbing the strawberry, not even having touched the actual crepe yet.

"It's good, it's…food. Good food." He finished up the other half and used the make-shift plate to wipe his mouth. "Not my cup of tea per say, but it was good, Red. Uh, thanks for doing that."

"Right. I owe you, anyway."

"No, I owe you, actually." He balled up the napkin and held it in his fist. "I think you should stay here a few more days, Red—at least until you get yourself a place." His words felt so forced, for a moment she stopped chewing.

"No, no no. We agreed last night, remember? This was only for one night. 'just one'" she mocked him, "Thanks for the offer, though, really. I know you don't want to do this."

"Oh? What…make you think that?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I know you don't like sharing the place. It's fine, I get it."

"Red," Bigby looked her straight in the eyes. "You and I both know this is nowhere near what I owe you. I hate to bring up the past but, housing you for a few days is the least I could do for… what I've done to you and your grandmother." The mention of her grandmother made Red wince for a moment. She returned Bigby's stare with a thankful nod.

"I appreciate it Bigby. Really, I do." She replied. Bigby sat up, hoping she wouldn't continue on with a 'but'. She cleared her throat. "I'll tell you what, how about I go look at the studio today and if all goes well, I can be out of your hair by tomorrow."

"Sure." He said, nodding. "Whatever you want, Red."

"Well I don't _want_ to stay another night but you sure seem like you want me to." She put another piece of the crepe in her mouth.

"I just don't want you out on the streets is all. I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I don't know who could, really." He answered defensively. Red slid the rest of her crepe across the table to him and got up.

"Alright, I'm off. Gonna try and track down this place before someone else claims it." She grabbed the page with the ad and headed towards the front door. "Finish that off for me, would you?" She pulled her hood over her head and disappeared into the hall. Bigby stared at the barely-nibbled-on-crepe in front of him and scoffed.

* * *

The man sat, hunched forward, fingers through his hair, eyes squinted; looking somewhat of a disgruntled beast. Though his situation at home had been interesting to say the least, it was almost neck-and-neck with the case he had been working on for the past few days. Five fables gone completely missing in only three weeks, no trace and no leads. The case became especially puzzling when on the second week, Holly, one of the victims, was reported to have returned. A full body examination revealed that she returned completely unscathed, but despite intense interrogation, she dismissed all the nonsense of having been kidnaped and instead insisted she had gone on vacation. She spitefully added that it wasn't anyone's business where or why she left. Bigby had considered, at one point that perhaps Holly wasn't lying and had left for a secret vacation conveniently just around the time that the disappearances began happening. It just didn't make sense to him, then, why the door to the Trip Trap had been left unlocked with all of the lights on when they went in to search for evidence of a struggle. Bigby threw the papers in frustration and they splayed across his dusty, already unkempt desk. He reached his pocket for a cigarette when he heard two gentle knocks on his office door. He could already tell who it was by the silhouette through the frosted glass. "Come in," he called, sitting up and straightening his tie.

"Hey, Bigby." Snow gave him that soft smile she always showcased whenever she knew he was stressed.

"What do you need?" he asked.

"Sorry, for interrupting. It…looks like you're busy." He followed her eyes to the mess of papers on his desk and quickly gathered the files and put them back into their folder.

"No, no, don't worry about it. What's bothering you, Snow?"

"I was going to ask if you've gotten a chance to go over the new case notes yet but I see you already have." She leaned her hips onto his desk and placed her hands in the center of her skirt.

"I have spent more time reading over these files than I have ever spent on any case. I've interviewed everyone and their cousin's brother. I've visited all the supposed kidnapping sites, and nothing. I can't get a single god damn lead. And then last week Holly comes strolling back into her bar as if everything's all sunshine and daisies and as if half the town hasn't been out searching for her—it's just… it's a damn shame, Snow."

"I'm worried, Bigby." She replied.

"This town…" He ran his hands through the front of his hair, "Isn't as safe as it needs to be. We can't keep having Fables go missing like this. It has to be one of us, there's no doubt about that. No way a mundy would purposely be targeting only people from our town."

"But who would be doing that? And why?"

"Ain't that the million dollar question." Bigby pulled out the cigarette he had been craving and lit it, taking a long, deep drag.

"Well… Good thing we've got the Big Bad Wolf to protect us now, huh?" She smiled, trying her best to encourage her clearly agitated partner. He closed his eyes and took another huff of his cheap fag. She lay a gentle hand on his shoulder, "I know you can do this, Bigby. We can do it. Together. We're a team, right? We have to be able to keep this town safe, no matter what. I… can't sleep at night knowing we've got missing people." Bigby looked up at her and without breaking eye contact he put out the cigarette in his ash tray and leaned into her. She quickly lifted her hand and stumbled back, surprised at his somewhat bold attempt to kiss her. "A-anyway, I've got to get back to work…Bigby. Keep doing what you do best." She nodded at him and cleared her throat. "Tell me when you've got any news." She stepped awkwardly out the door and gave him one last regretful look over her shoulder before shutting the door. Bigby cooly loosened his tie and leaned back in his chair, for a moment just staring at the front door. He then kicked the metal trash bin beside his desk and buried his face in his hands.

* * *

Bigby could already smell the bittersweet aroma of meat before he even walked through the door. Colin was still nowhere to be seen, and in a way it was sort of a relief. That pig was now someone else's problem, and one less thing for Bigby to stress about. Red was in the kitchen and for the first time without her red cape. She was tossing up a vibrant salad and he could see two hearty steaks in the oven. He plopped himself down at the dinner table and rubbed his temples.

"Hey," Red greeted him casually as if they had been living together for years. In her hands were two wooden spoons in which she used to delicately pile salad on the two plates she had laid out. _She must've gone out shopping while I was at work_. He pulled out his box of Huff n' Puffs and put another cigarette between his lips. "Nuh-uh, not before this delicious dinner I've slaved over all day for you." She pointed at him with the spoon. Now, normally, Bigby Wolf would never let anyone keep him from a cigarette, especially after a long, stressful day, but he could tell she'd spent a good portion of the evening preparing this. He put the cigarette back and placed the box on the table. "How was work?" she dared to ask, opening the oven and poking at the meat inside. "Almost done," She murmured.

"If I don't get to smoke, I'd rather not talk about it." He replied flatly.

"Fair enough." She shrugged, "What do you smoke?" she asked, opening the oven once again.

"It's a crappy brand. Huff N' Puffs. But it's the only crappy brand I can smoke." He stared longingly at his pack lying face down on the table.

"Mind if I bum one after dinner?" she asked, grabbing the mittens and pulling out the tray of meat.

"Sure, I guess. I didn't know you smoked."

"Well," Red replied, plating the two hearty steaks. "There's a lot of things you don't know about me." She brought out the two plates and placed the larger one in front of Bigby. The knives and forks were already set at the table. "Eat up."

Bigby eyed the steak, "Thank you," He said, awkwardly picking up his utensils as if he'd never seen a fork and knife in his life.

"You don't have to use them if you—"

"I can use them." He stabbed the rib eye right in the center and began sawing away with his knife.

"I didn't know what else to make. I mean I knew you liked meat, so."

"It's good." He replied, chewing slowly and enjoying the taste of real food. His eyebrows turned downwards like a sad dog.

"Good," Red answered. "That's a real compliment coming from someone who eats meat as often as you." She seemed quieter today. A little more shielded than she had been before. Bigby gave her a look she couldn't quite read, and cut himself another piece of steak.

"So, any luck with the apartment today?"

"It's already been moved into." She replied, picking at her salad. "I was a little late."

"But the listing was just in the paper this morning. How did someone already move in that quickly?" Red reached into her bag and handed the newspaper across the table at him. He pushed aside his half-finished plate and opened it confusedly.

"Look at the date, Bigby. It's from last week. This paper's a week old." He handed it back to her and she threw it frustratedly at the ground.

"I'm sorry I don't really keep track of these things, I don't really read them much." Bigby said regretfully as he scratched the back of his neck. He could tell she was severely disappointed.

"I should've noticed it." She clicked her tongue and put her fork down without having even touched her food yet. Bigby could tell she didn't want to ask for another day. He put another abnormally large piece of steak in his mouth and chewed for a moment before speaking.

"You know it's been… nice. Having actual meals these days. I mean it makes me feel… not so empty."

"That's what food tends to do, Bigby." She scoffed.

"No, I mean," He shuffled in his seat. "Having someone here, to talk with and cook with… _that_ , doesn't make me feel so empty." She looked down ..

"You… You don't mean that." She said, smiling of disbelief. "I know you don't mean that, Bigby. Don't play this game. It's cruel." She stopped smiling. Bigby furrowed his brows.

"You can stay here, Red. No one's pushing you out but yourself. I know this place ain't much but I'm more than willing to share what is here."

"Bigby, listen." Red crossed her legs and leaned across the table to get closer to him. "I appreciate it, I really do. You've done so much for me just by housing me these two days. It's not that I don't want to—I mean it's not that there's anything wrong with this place, it's just that I…Ugh, shit." She dropped her head and ran an irritated hand through her hair. Bigby grabbed his box of cigarettes and offered it to her. She gratefully took one and leaned in so he could light it and took a long drag. She squinted her eyes shut for a long time before finally speaking. "I came here… hoping you could help me out. I figured, you know, you owed me something." Bigby could tell she was having a hard time expressing herself and chose to remain silent until she finished. "You took… everything away from me when you killed my grandmother." Bigby closed his eyes in guilt. "I was so small I didn't—" she sighed, "I didn't know how to take care of myself. I had to learn. I had to learn to live without anyone at all to help me. And now, even though I _know_ I need help I just—I can't take it without feeling like I'm just going to have it all taken away from me again." Bigby lit his own cigarette and together they took a long drag and sat in silence as their smoke floated up and merged into one foggy cloud for a split second before dissipating. She lay the upper half of her body across the table and rested the side of her head on an outstretched arm. She looked like a wilted flower, he thought. Bigby opened his mouth a few times to speak, but the right words just wouldn't come out.

"Getting help… doesn't mean that you can't take care of yourself." He started, "Sometimes we just aren't able to do things all by ourselves, and as shitty as it feels for someone like you and me to ask for help, we just gotta take it when we need it. It isn't easy, and I know that reassuring feeling of being a lone wolf more than anyone. But it's not a fun life to live, and even though it may seem like it's easier on the heart, it's… not. When you label yourself as someone who likes being alone, it starts coming true. People take heed to how often to talk to them, how friendly you are, what you say. And then by the end, you're left all by yourself and you realize it's not what you wanted after all. You just wanted to stop getting hurt. But now you're the one hurting yourself."

Red tapped off the ash on the edge of her cigarette and turned only slightly to look up at him.

"I'm starting to think you aren't such a big bad wolf after all, Bigby." She smiled.

He put out his cigarette and stood up to put his dish into the sink; Red rolled back over on her side and took another long huff and sighed. Both of them knew they were done talking for the night.

Bigby found Red asleep in his chair an hour later, before he even had a chance to offer it to her. He pulled her hood up to cover her shoulders and then left the apartment without bothering to lock the door. He sat himself down on the sidewalk outside the gates of the Woodlands. The street lamps were the only source of light illuminating the quiet street and for the first time that day, he finally felt alone. While the city was asleep, he was wide awake. He smoked cigarette after cigarette and reflected on what had been happening in his life the past few days. He thought about the missing fables, and whether or not he was ever doing this town any justice. He thought about Snow, and how he stupidly tried to kiss her and wondered if she'd ever look him in the eye again. And most importantly, he thought about the girl, peacefully sleeping in the den of the Big Bad Wolf.


End file.
